My last post was a feeble attempt to describe a “day at the Rehab Institute.” The objective of this post is to give y’all a look around the Rehab Institute grounds. As such, it will be mostly comprised of photos. The Rehab Institute became my workspace, my safe haven, my musical playground, my landmark, my lunchroom, my battleground, and my victor’s podium. The last six weeks of my posting was spent at the Rehab Institute and it seemed that if I wasn’t asleep at home or out with friends, then I was here. Come to think of it, I was often meeting with friends at rehab. The rest of this post will be photos with captions. Enjoy the tour!
Saturday, June 8, 2013
Thursday, May 23, 2013
I am writing this post, and those hereafter, from a very different place. Well, at least geographically speaking. My physical being is now stateside, but I’m afraid that large portions of my heart and mind are still lingering on the other side of the globe. Last Friday marked the one month anniversary of my return to Washington. I could try to explain why it has taken me over a month to finish out this blog, but frankly, the details are not really that important. What you need to know is that 1.) come hell or high water I will be completing this blog, 2.) it may take me a while and a few posts.
Monday, April 8, 2013
A catamaran is a sailing vessel with two hulls. The word catamaran, incidentally, comes from the Tamil word kattumaram meaning “tied wood.” Although originally the double-hulled design was met with much skepticism because it was based on geometry rather than physics, the concept is now widely used due to its speed, stability and ability to carry large loads.
As I mentioned in an earlier blog, Charlie celebrated her birthday here in India. Around the same time, we had the pleasure of joining two other birthday celebrations: Sunil and Patient Zero’s. Each birthday celebration was different and highlighted variances in how people celebrate birthdays in various parts of the world.
Easter Sunday was the source of many fond memories for me. I was too young to fully grasp the real reason my family celebrated Easter, but not too young to enjoy some family traditions. Easter Sunday meant sitting on my grandparent’s couch while my grandfather read the cousins Prince Bertram the Bad or Sir Kevin of Devon while the aunts and uncles hid brightly colored eggs around the yard. (If I had any say we would read Prince Bertram the Bad every time. I felt some sort of deep-seated connection to Prince Bertram. I felt he was so misunderstood. We were kindred spirits, I was sure of it. But I digress. That is another story for another day…) When I was a bit older and had some measure of fashion awareness (although, after a cursory glance at me, some might argue that I have never gained fashion awareness), Easter Sunday meant we could wear white shoes and our new dresses.
This was my Easter in India. Every year on Easter, CMC conducts a sunrise worship service. This chapel service is not held in an ornately decorated cathedral, or even in a modest chapel topped with steeple and spire. It is held on the natural amphitheater halfway up College Hill.
Every year the residents of Fitch Hostel host what they call “Hostel Day.” There are a number of hostels on the CMC college campus, but the Fitch Hostel residents have a special place in my heart. They are the young ladies of CMC who are studying to become physios and occupational therapists. Over the past three months I have had the pleasure, nay, the honor of working alongside many of the beautiful women of Fitch Hostel.